Now or Never
by ICanReadYouLikeABook
Summary: IchiRuki - "Give me a week...just a week to make you realize you're in love with me." "You have 24 hours." And it was a deal.
1. Prologue: As It Was Meant to Be

**Title:** Now or Never

**Summary:** "Give me a week…just a week to make you realize you're in love with me." "You have 24 hours." And it was a deal. IchiRuki

_"Look, at first it was just orders. And then, everything changed. Okay, I fell in love. I fell in love with the, with the forest, with the Omaticaya people, with you. With you." –Jake Sully, 'Avatar'_

* * *

Prologue - As It Was Meant to Be

"Rukia…are you awake?"

The tiny shinigami groaned in response and rolled over in the direction of his voice. It was a little early to be trying to strike up a conversation, and her curiosity was the only thing that caused her to respond. This better had been important- she wasn't in the mood. She muttered something that might've been an "Oi," and Ichigo took it as an initiative to speak. He kneeled in front of her bed and rested his chin on the surface of her mattress, peering at her closed eyes in the dim room.

"Can we talk for a second?"

"No."

She didn't really have a choice. Too much was on his mind tonight _not_ to get it off his chest, since sleep seemed virtually impossible. One moment, he was thinking only about the trivial things in life, and the next, it was her. _Her_- with her constantly shifting emotions and irrational actions. Yesterday, they were kissing. Today, she didn't want to talk. Was it something he had said? Something he had did?

Oh yeah- practically throw himself upon her lips. In most cultures, that's considered inappropriate to do without permission.

It's not inappropriate if she kissed him back though, right? He'd like to think so.

He felt around in the dark before pulling on the chain that turned on the closet light. A low groan emitted from her lips and she shoved her pillow over her head to continue to hide in the dark. It was odd that she believed things like this could be covered up so easily. When did silence ever solve her problems? He cared too much. He'd like to believe that she was thinking about it, too- the fact that this was a game he wanted to be over. Stealing kisses behind closed doors and facing denial when they opened. Ichigo Kurosaki was done. At that moment, he was completely and irrevocably _done_.

"Come on," he attempted to pry the pillow off her face, though it was like trying to pull nails out of a floorboard with bare hands. "I just want to talk."

"Yeah, I know." Her words came out a little funny from behind the muffling fabric.

After a couple of moments of rigorous tugging, the pillow came down and Rukia's face was in full view. Her hair resembled something close to a haystack and her eyes were wide and blinking from Ichigo's incredibly close vicinity and the garish light of the table lamp. His mouth seemed to be taunting her as it curved up into a triumphant grin, and her resolve weakened.

He leaned just a fragment closer, although it was more than enough to close the distance between them. Their mouths found each other like a pull of magnetism, gentle but needy nonetheless, and she sighed against his lips. It would be another one of _those_ moments- a quick, soft kiss that they could no longer ignore, and then going on as if it never happened. She lived for those moments nowadays. She craved them. She despised them. When his mouth finally pulled away, a part of her missed it while another was relieved to be free.

He didn't say anything. Instead, his eyes were closed and his forehead gently leaned against hers as a small smile played on his lips. It was nice- feeling her touch. It was as if she had been gone far too long and had finally returned to him.

"We can't keep doing this," she sighed quietly, closing her eyes and listening to her betraying heart thump furiously in her chest.

"Doing what?"

"You know what I'm talking about!" she said a little angrily, leaning back and moving her face to peer up at his.

He was just so _frustrating_. It wasn't like she enjoyed getting woken up in the middle of the night for a needy kiss on the lips. Since when had she become so weak? The word 'no' had always been in her vocabulary until their cravings caved in on them and their resolve dwindled away to practically nothing. She hadn't always been like this- so helpless against something as silly as a kiss.

But it was _his_ kiss. Something entirely different.

"I've been thinking," he said slowly, biding his time now that he held her attention, "about…us. What are we doing?"

Rukia knew they were heading into dangerous waters. She lay her head against her arm and pretended that he wasn't affecting her nearly as much he thought she was. Honestly, she didn't know the answer to the question that had been burning in the back of her mind since the very first time they had kissed. It had been so terrifying, so thrilling, but wrong all the same. It was a mistake – she didn't know why, but it just _was_ – that they couldn't take back, but perhaps it was one they could sweep under the rug and ignore forever.

Then it happened again. And again. And they were _screwed_.

So what the hell were they doing, shaking every pillar of friendship they had carefully constructed and breaking the very foundation they stood on? There is no simple answer. But there is a simple fact- Rukia didn't get the point in relationships. Was anyone around her in one? And she had seen arranged marriages of the nobles and how fucked up they could turn out to be. She wanted no part of it. For one hundred and fifty years, she wanted no part of it, and this idiotic boy kneeling in front of her would not change a thing.

"Do we have to talk about this?" she argued, avoiding his burning gaze.

"Yeah, we do."

"And why is that?"

His eyebrows furrowed and there was an odd mix hurt and confusion on his features. "Do I…does this…" he struggled for the right words. "Does this mean anything to you?"

"No."

She tried to make her voice impassive. She really did. But between that look on his face and her ebbing conscience in the back of her mind- she couldn't do it hurt him more than she was already hurting herself. It was one big, ugly, blatant _lie _that she wanted to take back as soon as it flew out of her uncontrollable mouth.

He half smirked – half laughed. "For a second, I almost believed you."

"Go away."

"What are you so afraid of?" he taunted, leaning closer. "The fact that you might actually _care _about me?"

"I'm not _afraid_, you imbecile," she corrected him, shoving at his shoulder in order to get him to back up. "In fact, it's the complete opposite."

"So you _enjoy _kissing me?"

"Ugh, no!"

"Then why do you do it?"

"Who else is going to?"

He flashed her an arrogant grin and leaned a little closer. "Are you starting to _like _me?"

"The hell I am!"

Since when had she become such a good liar in front of someone who could see right through her?

No, it wasn't a lie. But it wasn't the truth, either. She didn't "like" him – damn that word – yet, a part of her was dangerously close. There was a steep edge, and she was treacherously near. Her heart tottered on the edge of falling horribly, recklessly, dangerously in love with the fool who was far too arrogant to see it. She hated every moment of it. Rukia Kuchiki wasn't used to being this scared.

He saw right through them. Right past the stony silence and averted eye contact in to something that radiated uncertainty and indecision. And he was scared too – hopefully, she realized that – but that didn't help him keep up all the bullshit acts of ignorance and apathy. In reality, he cared. A _lot_. Enough to let her know that he was done pretending and was ready to start living. With her. Together. As it was meant to be.

He wondered if she was done tap dancing on his ego. Honestly, he was getting tired of her denial and the fact that the stress was on both sides. He didn't know much about this romantic stuff – parts of it made him question his sanity – so a little slack could be given on his behalf. Ichigo Kurosaki didn't grovel. And she would not make him, if he had a hand in things.

"What do I need to do make you fall in love with me, then?"

That word- _love_. It gave her the chills to hear him say something so blatantly, as if it really did apply to her. It didn't. She would make sure of it. Her heart was tightly locked in chains. But perhaps…perhaps he had the key.

"You can shut the hell up, for starters," she smiled wryly.

He smiled back. "Then put your mouth against mine."

"You're a pig."

He gently grabbed her arms as she began to turn away. "You don't feel it, Rukia? Do you really not feel it like I do?"

Of course she did. But what was she supposed to do- throw away every shield she had carefully constructed, just for him? Where were the benefits? How did she know this was all going to work out for the best? She didn't. That was the point. She really did want to be with him, but at the same time, she didn't. _Damn_, she was confused.

"I…I do," she whispered painfully She hated how weak he made her. She hated how quickly she was giving in.

And he knew. "Give me a week," he said quickly, sensing her resolve slipping. "Just a week to make you realize you're in love with me."

This was so hard. Every inch, every centimeter of her body screamed yes. She wanted so badly to believe him. She wanted so badly to believe that he was right. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked into his pleading eyes. So much hope in one person. It should be illegal.

"You have 24 hours," she said quietly, her voice final, yet defeated. "You don't know what the hell you're thinking, but you have until- "she glanced at the clock "-tomorrow at midnight."

"Easy."

His ego was really starting to give her a headache. He smiled at her before stealing a quick kiss, – the bastard – turning off the light, and going back to bed.

And it was a deal.

* * *

**A/N: **This is my contribution to all the V-Day fics soon to be released. It seems like there's no more plots left out there, so I decided to do this instead. Characters- OOC, I know. But there's no way Ichigo can be a hardass and a romantic at the same time in this chapter. Honestly, I tried. Next chapter- hopefully he will be. I dunno. They're all just so unpredictable. Leave me a review and let me know whether you want this to continue or not! Suggestions, corrections, ideas, criticizm- it's _all_ welcomed. That'd be super-appreciated.

And thanks for everyone who's voted in my profile poll. You guys are helping me in ways you can't imagine.


	2. Oh Nine Hundred Hours

Chapter I: Oh - Nine Hundred Hours

"Rukia, are you read- _oh_."

This was new. And quite frankly, Ichigo didn't mind a bit. He leaned against the wall and smirked.

"There are laws about public indecency, you know," he told her as his eyes followed her swift movements.

She scowled at him and rummaged around her drawers for something to wear, eager to get dressed and into something a little less revealing. She hadn't _meant _to walk around in a towel – really, it hadn't been part of her plan – but well, some things just happen without reason. Her hair was still a little damp as it hung around her face in gentle waves and she held a sudsy toothbrush in her mouth, hindering her ability to speak coherently. A big, fluffy towel was securely wrapped around her petite frame as she scurried around the room to find something decent to wear for the day.

"Really," he said a little more seriously, "you were supposed to be ready thirty minutes ago."

Her eyebrows furrowed and she pouted at him. "I's eawry! Horry."

"It's only nine o'clock and you're wasting my time."

"'ou 'an unersan mhe?"

She tilted her head to the side and eyed him curiously, and he couldn't help but grin. She was so damn _adorable_, with her inquisitive expression and a smear of toothpaste on the side of her chin. He'd be a dead man if she knew it was actually quite sexy, so he kept his thought to himself and continued to marvel at her perfectly shaped legs and the enhanced scent of strawberry shampoo.

His gaze practically burned into her. She could feel it as she leaned over her drawers with her barely – covered backside towards him and a towel that didn't even go past her knees. A great part of her felt oddly self-conscious – not that she wanted him to enjoy the show or anything like that. But 'sexy' was never a word she'd associate herself with, and his eyes were suggesting something pretty damn close. There was a glint of hungry need in them, though it was slight, and she couldn't help but wonder what was truly on his mind. No one had ever looked at her like that before. No one.

At last, she rinsed her mouth, combed through her hair and threw on her favorite pair of shorts (after she had kicked out his prying eyes, of course). To hell with appearances. They weren't worth all the trouble. Grabbing a banana, she was out the door and into the bright sunlight of the Saturday morning.

"You perv," she mumbled while chewing once she had noticed his soft smile and his gentle gaze on her lips.

"You're just…so beautiful," he admitted helplessly.

She blushed. Score one for Kurosaki.

They walked in comfortable silence for a little while down the quiet street of the neighborhood, enjoying the sweet scene of blossoming cherry trees and tiny animals scurrying across lawns. It was surprisingly warm for a March morning, and the sun felt delicious on their skin after a week of cloudy skies and the grey walls of Karakura High. She tossed her banana peel into a nearby garbage bin and wiped her hands on the sleeve of his shirt. He frowned and shoved her away a little and she smiled. It was peaceful. Easy.

"So where are you taking me in this prestigious plan of yours? Dinner, movies, a walk in the park?"

He peered down at her. "Am I really that unoriginal?"

"You're just, I don't know…" she shrugged "not really the romantic type."

"I _could _be."

"You kill for a living. That doesn't exactly scream 'kiss me,' you know."

H mused on her words for awhile. Did he really seem like such a serious, bloodthirsty person? Yeah, he killed. And yeah, battle had aged him. But it was all for a clear motive- for protection. Because he wanted to protect the ones he loved. He looked at the tiny Death god strolling next to him and smiled. He would protect her forever. No matter what. Because he loved her.

"Maybe I'll surprise you," he said quietly.

"Maybe. Or you could just tell me where we're going."

"Or I could not."

"I don't like guessing games."

"Then stop guessing!"

She stomped hard on his foot in protest and he winced. She was such a _pain _sometimes. Since when had she become so worth it? Oh yeah- the first time she felt her gentle lips pressed against his. He could do this. He would not lose his cool. He would-

She kicked him in the shin. "Where are we going?"

He cried out in anguish. Score one for Kuchiki.

"You're awfully irritating for someone so _small_," he noted irately.

She pursed her lips. "And you're awfully stupid for someone so powerful. Tell me where we're going!"

She wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled him down into a headlock while he desperately tried to escape her hold. This was beyond embarrassing, considering this was in public. In the open. Around _people_. For someone so "noble," she sure had low ideas of making him talk. He grabbed her legs in his long arms and slung her hover his shoulder after her hold slipped away from his neck.

"What the f-?"

"Behave and I'll let you down," he said simply. "It's like you're trying to sabotage my limited time."

She said nothing. Perhaps he was smarter than she had estimated.

He walked in tense silence with the tiny female slung over his shoulder, through the streets of Minamikawase towards the more populated parts of Karakura Honchou. What he'd give for four wheels right now…

"I'm not opposed to grand theft auto," she said absent-mindedly, as if reading his mind.

"Well aren't you noble."

"If you're not going to provide more comfortable transportation, can you at least let me down?"

He obeyed and set her down on the pavement. His hand lingered a little on the small of her back and he leaned over her, looking curiously into her wide, violet eyes. They questioned him, wondering why he had paused and why they loitered. He just…couldn't let go. He didn't want to. Didn't she understand how perfectly they fit together?

She needed to. He needed to explain how much he loved the contours of her body. Ichigo wrapped his arm around her slender waist, pulling her closer, and the hem of her shirt rose up a little to reveal the smooth skin of her back. His mouth leaned over hers, tasting her sweet aura of anticipation, and he brushed his lips against hers as if he was just the wind. She whimpered a little. But just a little.

And that was sexy as _hell_.

He smirked against her lips. "Caving in so easily, Rukia?"

She scoffed and ran to her thumb across his lower lip. "Don't think this is going to be that easy," she whispered, her voice low and full of warning. "My resolve is much stronger than you think it is."

"Don't be so sure."

"So cocky!" she growled, pushing him away and continuing along the sidewalk path.

He walked after her and slipped his hands around her waist, hugging her from behind, but she quickly untangled them and walked a little faster. His long legs were the perfect blessing; he quickly caught up with her and tried again.

"Cut it out."

"That's not fair," he murmured into her ear while burying his nose in her hair. "Be nice."

"Never."

They walked alongside each other, bumping shoulders and playing an odd game of tag where Ichigo would try to slip an arm around her waist or a hand in her palm and she would quickly swat him away. Ichigo wondered what the point of these 24 hours was if there seemed to be a no-end scenario. Would he win? Or was his self-confidence completely clouding his reasoning?

She was stubborn. He was relentless. This would be interesting, to say the least.

They had been so wrapped up in their own world that Ichigo had almost forgotten their destination. It was a tiny pet shop with dusty windows and signs advertising the latest animals for sale. Taking her tiny hand in his, he dragged her inside and gave the owner at the register a small wave. The man acknowledged him knowingly, smiling when he saw Rukia clinging to his hand.

"Why are we- oh!" Immediately, her eyes landed on fluffy, white balls of fur roaming around in a pen.

She had a weakness for rabbits. Or maybe it was a serious psychological issue. Either way, she was drawn to them like magnets to steel, and her feet carried her over to the irresistible animals without a second thought. Ichigo almost wanted to hold her back for a moment after seeing the dangerous glint reflected in her widened eyes, but he resisted. She kneeled over the pen and watched the tiny creatures nestle in the paper bedding or nudge each other with their miniscule, pink noses. If she didn't know any better, she'd say they were the eighth wonder of the world.

She absent-mindedly stroked them, lacing her fingers through their soft fur. She would surely have to draw this scene as soon as she got home. It would be a masterpiece.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" she cooed to one she cradled in her arms.

Ichigo stood behind her. "Rukia."

She looked up at him curiously as she stroked the animal's fur before her hand ran across something hard on its hind leg. Examining it closer, she saw that it was a tiny charm bracelet loosely wrapped around its foot. Her eyes glittered with curiosity at the object. In tiny detail, the name 'Rukia' was engraved in the metal with a tiny bunny charm hanging from the side. She gasped. It was impossible. Something this perfect couldn't happen to her.

"She's yours," he said gently.

For a moment, they didn't speak. Ichigo waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts. What was she thinking? Did she like it? Or was it too much? Perhaps he could try something else. Something chocolate-

In a flash, she was standing up and wrapping an arm around his torso while cradling the rabbit with her other arm. As he looked down at her in wonder, her eyes seemed to be brimming with appreciation.

"Thank you," she said simply, though her words were laced with unspoken happiness and joy. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

And then the rabbit proceeded to pee.

It didn't really register in their minds until the warm, yellow liquid trickled down her arm and onto his shoe. Maybe it was water or something. And then she smelled the odd smell of animal waste and they _swore_ the thing actually winked. She shrieked in surprise and watched it drip from out of its hind legs and onto Ichigo's pant legs and the floor. As quickly as she had stood, she squatted back down and dumped the rabbit back into the pen.

"That's disgusting," she muttered.

"I know."

She swiftly unclasped the bracelet from the rabbit's leg, dangled it from her thumb and forefinger (for it had gotten wet, too) and peered at him curiously as her eyebrows furrowed.

"Er, thanks, but I think I'll leave the rabbit here."

Score zero for Kurosaki. Score one for Rukia the untrained rabbit.

They left very quickly after that.

* * *

**A/N: **Boo. Slow update. But hopefully it was worth the wait, right? Leave me a review and tell me what you thought about this chapter! I'd love to hear your thoughts and any ideas about what you might want to see happen next. Writer's block is a pain in my ass, for real. And no animals were harmed in the making of this segment.

P.S- Your voting for my poll is super-amazing. Words cannot express how appreciative I am for your feedback.


	3. Ten Hundred Hours

Chapter II – Ten Hundred Hours

"Excuse me. Can I have just a moment of your time?"

Ichigo peered down at the man irately. He didn't want to be rude about it, but Ichigo had only so much time and sharing it with this man did not seem like an option. The man was middle-aged and short with kind, simple features and eyes you couldn't say no to. In his hand was a paintbrush, and an art easel was propped up next to him and the bench that sat on the side of the park's side walk. The man motioned to his easel.

"Er, sorry," Ichigo muttered apologetically. "We're in kind of a hurry."

"It won't take long, really. I just want a new subject. You guys would really be helping me out."

"Sure, why not?" Rukia said before Ichigo could decline again.

He sighed. It was clear that she would be doing anything in her power to sabotage his mission. However, there was a mysterious glimmer in her eyes as she eyed the easel and a serene smile graced her features as soon as she sat down on the bench. It was then that Ichigo understood that it wasn't about him- she truly wanted this. He had no other choice but to obey.

As if he could deny her anything.

They sat on the bench and the man disappeared behind the easel. It felt a little awkward for Ichigo, to say the least. Should he pose? Smile? Or would he be smiling for too long of a time period? Perhaps he should put his arm around her. No, that'd be weird, although wrapping his arm around her perfect waist _was_ tempting. He mused awhile on possible scenarios while the artist scratched and stroked on the canvas.

For some reason, people began to flock around the easel. Their eyes wandered over the painting admirably. Some old lady with a dog flashed them a thumbs-up while others smiled and admired the dramatically different yet perfectly matched couple steal glances at each other and wait patiently for the public show to be over. It was the perfect example of a teenage love affair- awkward and unfamiliar, yet full of vigor one wished for when they got older. And the weirdest part? They didn't realize it.

Ichigo and Rukia were already in love and they didn't quite know it yet.

"I'm done," the painter told them, and he took the canvas off the easel.

Rukia took the paper and gasped. It had been worth it, after all. The guy deserved an award.

In the painting, they sat on the bench, as posed. Rukia leaned forward with her mouth seeming to be in mid-laughter while Ichigo looked at her, smiling. Swirls of white and blue surrounded them, as if he had somehow depicted their spiritual pressure, and the detail was so perfect it could've been a photograph if it hadn't been so abstract. On their chests, a heart was painted on the outside of their shirts and tiny strings connected and tied them together. There were no words for this. 'Thank you' seemed worthless.

A lady that had been watching tapped the short shinigami on the shoulder and smiled. "You two make a beautiful couple," she noted. "You're lucky to have found each other."

Rukia laughed awkwardly. "Uh, we're not actually…together."

"Oh. Well what are you waiting for?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but the words didn't immediately come.

"I…don't know."

That was the truth. What was the point in making him work for her? She didn't like being center of attention, and affection kind of scared her. That wasn't fair. He already had her heart. And she would let him keep it.

The small crowd dissipated and the couple continued their walk. The paint had dried and Rukia carefully rolled it up and tucked it under her arm. A gentle breeze occasionally rolled in and the air was war and comfortable. Simple silence hung between them as they walked, arms brushing and thoughts about the other rolling around in their heads like a magic 8 ball. They thought. They stole glances at each other. And then they thought some more.

"So what's next?" Her words had suddenly interrupted the silence.

Ichigo shoved his hands in his pockets. "You ask too many questions."

"Excuse me for being observant."

"Observant?" he smirked. "You don't even realize that you love me."

"I do!" –Ichigo raised his eyebrows- "But uh- I mean, I _don't_. I just realize how I feel."

"You're delusional."

"You're ignorant."

"_No_." he said slowly, correcting her. "I'm persistent."

She ignored him and walked a little faster. How could someone so idiotic be so optimistic?

"Relax," he told her, easily catching up. "We're going home."

She smiled. "Giving up so quickly?"

"Not a chance. You need to drop off the painting and I need a shower. I smell like rabbit pee."

Rukia smiled and fingered the charm on her new bracelet as she thought of bunnies and white fur and his arms wrapped around her waist. She thought of comfort. She thought of…him.

They walked home in more silence as the continued their odd game of tag. His arms would reach to wrap themselves around her and she would refuse, pushing them away. A small smile graced their features, and although she would never admit it, she was happy. His affection was peaceful and easy. There was no pressure to it; no thoughts of sex, although he loved every contour of her body, and their bond was private and for themselves only. Onlookers could not see it. They did not show it. Ichigo hoped that one day he could hold her hand, and she would let him, and they would know.

They would know that she belonged to him, and to him only. She would be his. He wanted her to be his.

At last, they reached the front door and stepped inside. Apparently Ichigo's family was still out, because the house was empty and the note they had left was still on the fridge. She dropped the painting on her bed and Ichigo shut the bathroom door behind him. A couple moments later, the sound of shower water was heard, and Rukia remembered she had left her hollow tracker in one of the pockets of her jeans. She searched around the bedroom for awhile, to no avail. It must've been in the bathroom hamper. She knocked on the bathroom door.

No answer.

She knocked a little harder.

"What?"

"I need my tracker," she attempted to yell over the rushing water.

"You kneed a hacker?"

"No! _Tracker, _you idiot!"

"Tractor?"

"Forget it," she sighed. "I'll get it myself. Don't come out of the shower, okay?"

She tentatively opened the door, tiptoed through the room and looked in the hamper around the corner. As she dug through pockets for the device, she heard the shower water stop and the curtains move backwards. Rukia froze. Did he not know she was in here? She told him to stay in the shower!

"What the-?"

She whipped around quickly and there he was. Wet. Steamy. In nothing but a towel. And all she could think was _'holy shit.'_

Shinigami work had been good to him. That was clear as he stood with his perfectly sculpted chest that was accented by water droplets running down the ripples of his body and his damp hair hanging over his confused features. She wanted to be that water. She wanted to lick the droplets off his chest. Wait…

"Done ogling?"

That broke her out of her reverie. She scoffed and rolled her eyes in an attempt to seem nonchalant. "I wasn't _ogling_. Don't flatter yourself."

"They what are you doing in here?"

"Looking for my hollow tracker!" She frowned and attempted to keep down her temper. "If you had been listening, you would've known that."

She made her way across the room, but he refused to move out of her path. Instead, he stood, staring at her with his signature crooked grin and disbelieving features.

"Move."

"Like what you see?"

She glared. He was really starting to get on her nerves.

"You egotistical idiot. _Move_."

She moved to her left, but he instantly shifted in front of him. Trying again to her right, he easily blocked her with a single step. She then pushed against his slightly wet chest – perhaps her hands lingered on the surface a little _too _long – but her efforts were in vain. Ichigo locked his hands around her wrists and grinned. Suddenly, his lips were at her ear, and she could feel his warm breath mixing with the thick steam that filled the room. His nose buried into her neck, getting its fill of her scent, and her eyes began to close at his touch.

"Going somewhere?" he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

She was at loss for words as her hands fell helplessly to her sides and his arms wrapped around her waist. Her body was pressed to his chest, and together, their hearts raced. This was dangerous territory. She had to leave. She had to-

He pressed his lips against hers very soon after.

Fuck it. Thinking straight was no longer possible.

Her lips parted in surprise and he leaned in enthusiastically, tracing the curve of her bottom lip with his tongue and pressing the small of her back in order to bring her closer. Every inch of his skin was on fire as she responded. That baffled him for a moment- she wasn't pushing him away. Perhaps, at that moment, she wanted him as much as he wanted her. The thought thrilled him. Emboldened him. Made him feel powerful.

His heart pounded faster in his chest as she trailed her fingertips down the front of his chest. He shuddered. He could stand like this, kissing and holding and loving her _forever_.

She trailed tiny kisses along his jaw before stopping at his ear. "Wait."

He could feel her lips brush against his skin. "_Why_?"

"I already told you," she smiled, looking at him from under her thick, perfect eyelashes. "My resolve is much stronger than you think."

"I can change that," he said, and his voice came out surprisingly desperate.

She smiled and ran her thumb against his bottom lip. "And you have thirteen more hours to do so," she whispered.

He was putty in her hands. He was weak. And like a ghost vanishing in mist, she slipped out of his hold and was gone.

When he had finally gotten dressed, he found her sitting on the couch and drawing crude pictures of bunnies and other unrecognizable things. It was incredible how much time she took to draw, and it never got better. He found himself smiling, despite the simplistic and elementary themes on the paper and watched her tiny tongue poke out of her perfect, pink lips and her thin eyebrows furrow in concentration. His heart began to beat a little faster, and he felt those strings pulling towards her once again. She sensed his presence but kept her eyes on the paper.

"Did you use my shampoo?"

"No…"

She rolled her eyes and ignored his lie. "Thirteen hours left. What's next?"

He came over to the couch, propped his arms on the edge of the back, and leaned over to get a better look at the doodle. It was a little better than he had expected, but still no Van Gough. That was okay with him. He liked whatever she created.

"Are you actually starting to look forward to this?"

"It's not _torture_."

He sat next to her and leaned against the arm of the couch. "But how am I doing so far? Really."

She looked up from her masterpiece and assessed his facial expression. He was…eager. Hopeful. She could've made fun of him for it if he wasn't so dedicated and serious about the question. And really, what was she supposed to say- he was doing great? Or was he failing miserably? Dodging the question would be unfair, but she seemed to have no other choice. She didn't _know_. Honestly, she was still quite confused about whether to give in or stand firm.

"You'll just have to find out later," she said lamely before turning back to the paper.

He laughed. "You're thinking about it. About us."

"Geez, Ichigo!" she cried out, shoving him away. "What has gotten _into _you? You're so emotional and dramatic. You're like a child. You don't know _what_ you want."

For some reason, anger boiled up inside her. She didn't know why. It just _came_ to her, unexpected and uninvited. Without reason. Without control.

"I want you," he argued.

"And why is that?"

He maneuvered his body to face directly in front of her and leaned down to meet her liquid amethyst eyes. "How could I not?" he murmured. "You're beautiful, smart, strong…I think you're the only person that could truly kill me."

She looked down at her lap. "Why would I ever do that?"

"You do it every day." His voice turned quieter as he struggled to find the right words. "This whole rejection thing…it's killing me, Kuchiki."

She laughed, though it was short and tense. "You make me sound so important."

"You _are_ important. Rukia…" he tilted her chin up with his index finger to meet her eyes. "I _love_ you."

It was the first time he had ever told her that. And she hated how selfish she had become.

She shook her head quietly and looked down at his chest. "Don't," she said simply. "Just…don't."

"That's not possible."

"You have to _try_," she pleaded. "Please, just _try_. I don't want this! I don't want to be so _weak_, so pathetic. I don't l…"

"Say it."

"I don't lo…"

"_Say it_."

She sighed. "I can't."

"Because you love me," he concluded.

It seemed so simple, the way he put it. And she wanted so badly to believe it.

She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him closer. "I'm going to break your heart," she whispered. "I hope you know that."

He took her chin between his index finger and thumb to bring her face closer and kissed her. It was sweeter, slower than usual, and she placed her palm on his heart to feel its steady beat. It was hers. That much was obvious. But deciding whether to keep it- that seemed so much harder. She wanted him, and she didn't. She loved him, but she refused. As her lips moved in perfect sync with his, she wondered if she could put her stubbornness aside to see what she was missing. As he leaned back and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her on top of his chest, she understood. She knew what she was missing.

It was him.

* * *

**A/N: **I wanted to incorporate a little sexiness and sweetness of IchiRuki in this chapter. Their prudence frustrates me. I'm ready to shoot Rukia, but I love her and this story too much to do so. Please leave me a review to let me know what can be improved, what you liked, and what you completely despised. I'm all ears, really. Every review recieves a free zanpakuto and a response by me! Yeah, I'd rather have the zanpakuto, but consider my response an added bonus. Thanks for reading and contributing to the profile poll! I love you all.


	4. Twelve Hundred Hours

Chapter III - Twelve Hundred Hours 

She had fallen asleep in his arms.

To be honest, she truly hadn't meant to. One minute her lips were pressed on his and her body was curled up against his chest, and the next minute, she was dreaming of him. It was surely cutting into his already limited time, but he didn't care. The feeling of cradling her tiny body in his arms and feeling the rise and fall of her chest brush against his was too good to interrupt. Nothing else mattered as he sat there, wondering if he crossed her dreams and hearing the steady thumping of her heart. His fingers gently brushed back hair from her face and he delicately kissed the edge of her forehead.

She stirred.

"Rukia?"

She settled back against his chest and grew still.

"You must really be tired," he muttered, still brushing her hair away from her face.

She shifted closer.

"Or perhaps I'm just _really_ comfortable."

He smiled at the fact that he was somewhat useful. "I'm talking to someone who's not even listening." His voice was very quiet, almost inaudible, in order to prevent waking her. "I must be losing my mind…then again, haven't I for the past couple of days?"

He wasn't really sure why he was talking to her. But he was, and despite the fact that she wasn't, a part of him hoped that she was listening.

"It's just that, when I'm around you…I dunno what to think anymore. We should be a, uh…_we, _y'know? But you think otherwise." He frowned at that thought. "Why is that so? Why can't everything be simpler? Someone should've told me what I was getting into the moment I kissed you. The moment I knew I either had to have you or die trying."

She sighed softly and snuggled even closer.

"So I guess that's why we're here then- you asleep and wasting every damn minute of my time" He smiled. "It's surprisingly nice. Nowhere else I'd rather be. And honestly…if winning these next hours means making you happy for life, for_ever_, then…so be it. I'm more than willing to make that happen."

He kissed her forehead once more and buried his face in her strawberry-scented hair. It was nice- doing nothing, together. She was here and he was here and stupid things like bets and hollows and the world just didn't seem to matter anymore.

"I love you, Rukia Kuchiki," he said quietly. "Why don't you understand that?"

She began to stir again, and he looked down to see if she was finally waking up. Her warm, violet eyes fluttered open and her eyebrows furrowed in curious confusion. He had never actually watched her wake up before. And it was the most beautiful phenomenon in the world. Her eyes took him in before a small smile played on her lips. He automatically found himself smiling back.

"Hey." Her voice was quiet, simple.

He said "hey," back.

"Did I really fall asleep?"

"Yeah. Nine A.M. must be a little too early for you."

"Well, you know…" her eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. "How long have I been asleep?"

Making her feel bad about it seemed pointless. He just shrugged gently and brushed a stray hair from her cheek.

"Not long."

She frowned and seemed to look right through him. "How long had I been sleeping, Ichigo?"

"Just an hour."

"Oh, damn," she said quickly, and she pressed her cool palm to her warm forehead. "I'm so sorry. I've taken up an entire _hour_…"

"Don't worry about it, really."

"How can you say that? I've completely wasted an hour of your time _sleeping_."

"Well, did you enjoy it?"

"Uh, yeah, but-"

He smiled. "Then it's not wasted."

She was suddenly unable to make eye contact. Since when had she become the most selfish person in the room? She was making him look like Gandhi in comparison to herself.

"And you held me…the entire time?"

"Yeah."

Great. Now she was making him look like Jesus.

"Thank you," she whispered, fingering the hem of her shirt. "Really."

He kissed her forehead. "Of course."

She sighed and began to remove herself from his lap, but his arms refused to unwind themselves from around her waist. Rukia looked at him curiously and he smiled her favorite crooked grin.

"Stay a little longer," he whispered to her.

It was almost impossible to resist. At this rate, he wouldn't even need the rest of his time. She was his…almost. But not quite.

"Nice try," she said wryly, "but no. You still have-" she glanced at the clock "-twelve hours to go."

He pulled her to his chest and nibbled at her ear. "Do I really need it? Be honest."

"_Yeah_," she shoved at him. "You do. Cut it out."

He ignored her attempts to wriggle free and trailed dramatic kisses down her jaw. It was too tempting not to steal another taste of her flawless skin. He loved, _craved_ every inch of it. Every inch of _her_.

"Hungry?" he murmured against her cheek. "I'm a pretty amazing cook."

"You're a crappy cook."

"And you're a crappy liar."

She laughed once, short and full of disbelief. "No, really. Your cooking kind of…sucks." She wrinkled her nose.

This surprised him for a reason. "Really? Okay then…come on. Let me cook for you."

"I'm not even hungry. And you don't have that much time."

"Right." His mind drifted off to that plan of his- the one that was growing hazier and hazier by the minute.

In a few, brief moments, they were off the couch and back into the bright sunlight of a Karakura midday. Ichigo had taken her by the hand, but she politely slipped out of his grasp. It didn't hurt his feelings- well, in her eyes, it didn't. He was good at hiding those kinds of things. A guy like him could never let on to a girl like her that his feet were tripping over his heart. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets and took the lead. She was becoming pretty good at this – following blindly without having her guard up. She trusted him. More than she had twenty four hours ago, perhaps, too.

They walked into the Karakura Honchou district in minutes, into the busy crowds of leisurely shoppers and things she had yet to learn about in this modern society of soda machines and bus stops. She loved it. All of it. A florist standing outside of his shop handed her a cut, purple daisy and Ichigo tucked it into her hair. Purple seemed to be her color. It was royal and elegant, yet cheerful and mysterious. It was her eyes. Her laughter. Her demeanor. As she blushed while Ichigo carefully placed it above her ear, he smiled. Her blush…that, he decided, was a shade of purple, too.

They passed by the shops that hung the bright, luring signs of half-price shoes, new jewelry arrivals and buy two, get one free deals on records. She paused in front of a music store that had advertised the latter, and her eyebrows dipped into a 'v.'

"What's a record?"

He raised his eyebrows at her. "You're kidding. Isn't that, like, your time period? Records, poodle skirts, Cadillacs?"

"…What?"

He rolled his eyes and jerked his head towards the entrance. "C'mon. I'll show you."

The curiosity was too much for her. She followed him inside to the vintage-looking, dusty-smelling room haphazardly stacked with erratic shelves of CD albums and carts full of square envelopes that sat in the 'records' section. The lights were dim, but adequate and the crowd was thin to none. Ichigo made his way over to the record section and Rukia followed suit.

"No one really uses them anymore," he explained as he held up an older-looking envelope thing in his fingers "so it's kind of like a lost art. But they were the thing until CDs and cassettes came along."

She nodded. "You use it to listen to music?"

"Right. On a record player, like that," he pointed at one sitting on a table nearby. "When you put the record onto the player, the needle runs along these little lines," he pointed. "The vibrations from the needle tracing the groves create the sound."

"Huh," was all she said as she absorbed the information. This world was more magical than she had originally though.

Soft music began to float from somewhere nearby, and Rukia turned to see a girl fiddling with a CD player. It was familiar to her, and her eyes lit up with an understanding Ichigo could not share.

"I love that song."

"Really?"

It was slow and indie-like, with heavy drums and a light, airy beat that was unfamiliar to his ears. He thought back to all the times he had seen Rukia listening to music. That was…never. She either listened to whatever was blaring from his radio or nothing at all. In his mind, she had never really been associated with music. Now she was smiling and looking off into the distance while absorbing the beat.

"Yeah. Little Joy is great."

He wasn't sure what to say to that. The singer's lyrics were in English, which surprised him.

"You like English music?"

"I like _music_."

He wasn't sure what to say to that, either.

"Hey, you wanna dance?"

The song changed into something even cuter, something even lighter, that donned a classic female voice and lyrics that were once again sung in English tongue.

"What? You dance?"

She held out her arms. "Of course. Nobility is educated in all fine arts. Come on."

"I don't dance…"

"Then what a perfect opportunity to learn."

He sighed. Denying her of anything had become such an impossibility. He begrudgingly came closer, took a quick look around to see if he recognized anybody (and the coast was clear), and awkwardly placed his hands on her shoulders. She laughed and guided them to the sides of her hips.

"They go _here_," she said gently as she placed them on either side of her, and he faintly blushed.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling at the fact that she was eye level with his lower chest, and began to gently sway. It was clear that Ichigo did not have the lead. Instead, he shuffled his feet back and forth like he had seen in the movies and refused to make eye contact. It was wrong – every movement of his – and he knew it, embarrassingly enough. Perhaps dancing just wasn't for him. Perhaps-

"Relax," she whispered, and she leaned her head against his chest. "Don't think about it. Just relax."

They began to sway in sync as he pulled her closer, and he felt the rhythm guiding his feet better than his mind had tried to do so. He was dancing. With her. Together. And it wasn't as screwed up as he thought it would turn out to be. Miracles did seem to be happening to him, lately.

"Only when the goal is unattainable do I start to feel like I'm losing myself. That's what she's saying," she said softly.

He kissed her hair and forgot about everything and everyone else around him. It was just him and her, alone, and anyone who didn't agree to it could suck it. He didn't care. He was dancing.

"You're not a bad dancer," she noted. "Perhaps I'll make something of you, yet."

"Does this mean I'm getting a second date?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't get your hopes up."

The song blended smoothly into another just as slow, and she pulled away. He caught her by the waist as she moved and flashed his crooked grin.

"Just one more?"

She hesitated, unable to truly comprehend his request before breaking into a dazzling smile and wrapping her arms back around his neck.

"Just one more," she agreed quietly, leaning her head back against his body.

So they danced again. And again. And again.

* * *

**A/N: **My characters were starting to get on my nerves, so I made them dance. It's incredible how powerful one becomes when they're holding a pen. In case you're wondering, the song was Unattainable by Little Joy. Beautiful song and beautiful album, so go youtube it or something and listen while you read. It inspired this entire chapter, from start to finish. Thanks for reading, and congrats to those who recieved a zanpakuto last chapter for reviewing! You're all awesome. Let me know what you're thinking.


	5. Thirteen Hundred Hours

He watched her swing.

His eyes were trained on her strawberry ice cream cone and her feet lightly brushed against the soil beneath them. There was something fascinating about that tongue of hers. Perhaps it was that peculiar taste. As it lapped up the strawberry cream and swirled it around in her mouth, he wondered if her kiss would be strawberry-flavored. Maybe it was the mystery of it. They hadn't gotten to the point where he was allowed to taste her tongue, but taking things slowly seemed like a better way to go than pushing it.

Her tiny hand held fast to the chain that held the swing, and he wanted to hold it. There was something mysterious about that too – how could something so delicate ever wield a sword? How could someone so small and lively be so deeply involved in the business of death? There was still so much he needed to know about her. Everything about her seemed to be mysterious, all of a sudden. Every lithe moment of hers was another question.

He continued to watch her swing.

It was as if his eyes bore into her. Even though she was not looking at him, she could feel it. It wasn't that odd feeling that she was being watched. It was that odd feeling that someone was staring right into her soul. Perhaps he saw something that he liked, something that interested him. Rukia could never know. She wasn't beautiful and curved like Matsumoto, or sexy and lithe like Yoruichi. She couldn't wield a sword like Shunsui Kyoraku, or heal like Momo. There was nothing special about her.

Except, when he looked at her…there was.

She couldn't figure it out. Even then, as she gently rocked back and forth on a silly children's swing, she knew he was seeing something she couldn't. And suddenly, she was the most beautiful, talented, serene person in the entire world. His gaze told her that she was wonderful. Even though she didn't believe it, it was nice all the same. As the strawberry ice cream melted away on her tongue, she wondered what he was thinking. Her head turned and her violet orbs ran over his unreadable features. Ichigo didn't even bother to conceal the fact that he had been watching her.

Maybe he wanted her to know. Maybe he wanted her to know that she constantly held his undivided attention.

She chewed away at the waffle cone and leaned her head against the swing's chain. "What're you thinking?"

"About what happens when this day is over."

So she wasn't the only one. Honestly, it was impossible to predict the next 48 hours, because it rested all on her shoulders. There was just so much turmoil in her head, she could barely see past it. What would happen to them when the clock struck 12:01? What would happen tomorrow? Next week? A year from now? Ten? That last thought made her head spin. It was too much, not because it was so vague, but because she already knew the answer.

"And?"

"And…I dunno, Rukia," he told her helplessly. "I just wonder if I'm doin' the right thing here."

She wanted so badly to believe that he was. It would make everything easier, and it wouldn't matter that he was full of life and she harbored in the realms of death. It wouldn't matter that the head of his family was a psychopath and the head of her clan would slit Ichigo's throat if he knew. It wouldn't matter that she was nobility and he was not, and that they could never, ever be together. Maybe she wouldn't feel so bad about the fact that this was all just a miserable, pointless game that would break hearts when they were done playing.

"It's alright if it makes you happy, hai? That's the saying?"

There was something darker behind her words, as if she herself did not believe them.

"But are _you _happy?"

She rolled her eyes. Making sure she was happy was just so damn selfish of her. Was Ichigo happy? Did he ever stop to ask himself that question, or was he just too busy worrying over her?

"Of course I am, you idiot," she said gently, dragging her toes into the dirt. "How could I not be?"

Why had that come out so bitterly?

"Then what is it? Why don't you return my feelings?"

_Feelings_. That word sounded so stupid coming from his mouth. Where was the Ichigo Kurosaki he used to be? Where was the person that scowled more than smiled, cursed in her presence every other word, harbored distain for the weak who fell in love? Where was he now? It was as if everything had changed in just a mere thirteen hours. For better or worse, he did not know, but hopefully it did not matter.

"It's not that easy, Ichigo. This isn't some story. People can't just fall in love."

_Love_. The word tasted so peculiar on her lips.

"And why not? Everyone has a story, Rukia."

"Because there are…_complications_," she struggled for all the right words. "Things you've overlooked.

He turned his torso and twisted his swing to face her. "Huh," he smirked. "Enlightened me."

So damn sarcastic and incapable of taking anything seriously. She had always hated and envied that part of him. She swallowed and closed her eyes for a minute, feeling the breeze pick up her hair. There was no way she could face him after this, and maybe in time, he could find the will in his heart to forgive her.

"We can't…I mean, we shouldn't…agh! Why is this so difficult to say?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "Is it supposed to be easy?"

Of course not. But it sure as hell would help things if it was.

"It's just that…I am a noble, Ichigo. There are certain rules, certain unspoken policies that I am obligated to honor."

So he wasn't good enough for her. Big surprise. Honestly, he had known that the moment Byakuya Kuchiki's cold, impassive eyes had first ran over him, analyzed him from top to bottom and wondered why Rukia had kept his company. It had bothered his ego at first, surely, but it wasn't too hard of a pill to swallow. Tying himself down to the Soul Society was never something he had wanted to do, and as a Substitute Shinigami, he didn't have to. So let them judge. He wasn't one of them. He wasn't trying to 'fit in.'

"I don't get it. Is falling in love with me not one of them or somethin'?"

"Nobles cannot run around dating and breaking up, Ichigo. It might be okay here, but it is considered juvenile and inappropriate in there. You don't emotionally tie yourself to someone and then sever it. When you find someone, you find someone to marry. A boyfriend or girlfriend is not properly equipped to run a noble household."

He shrugged. "So don't sever it."

How could someone be so narrow-minded and simplistic? That trait of his, she despised and envied, also. The fact that he proposed a no end scenario was baffling. Sometimes she was a complete bitch, and sometimes he was a total asshole. They were too inexperienced to be able to handle things when it got rough. Being tied to each other for the next couple hundred years seemed impossible. Two months and they'd be at each other's throats.

"Will you still love me when I try to kill you?"

He smiled. "Will you still love me when I feel like kicking your midget ass?"

She laughed, though it was short and somewhat melancholy. "I don't know. And that's the thing- what happens when this whole thing is over?"

That was one scenario he refused to consider. It could never be over. He could never let something like that happen.

"Damn. Have you always been such a pessimist?"

"Have you always been such an idiot?"

He cracked a smile, and suddenly there was too much distance between them. Ichigo stood up, pulled her by her slightly-sticky hands from the swing, guided her to his, and pulled her right into his lap. They swung gently, with Rukia cradled in the nook of his arm and her ear pressed on the surface of his thumping heart.

"You think too much, 'cause it's all so simple- stay with me forever."

"Mmm," she smiled. "But wouldn't that require me saying yes?"

"You'll say yes."

"And how do you know?"

He laughed shortly. "Can't you picture it, Rukia? We're supposed to be together."

And so she could. No matter how hard she squeezed her eyes shut or covered her years, she could see them, together, as if it was destiny's hand; she could hear their laughter as the soundtrack for the rest of their lives. Or life. Whatever you call it when two people are intertwined by the heart.

He bent his head down to kiss her, and she sighed against his lips in content. Ichigo's theory had been right after all- her kiss truly was strawberry tinted. Her lips were soft and delicious and her tiny hand gripped the hem of his shirt.

"No fair," she whispered. "I really shouldn't let you get away with that so easily."

"No, you like it."

"Well aren't you conceited?"

"I think you kinda like that, too."

Meh. A fraction of it was sexy, but for the most part, it was downright annoying. She rolled her eyes and said nothing as his long legs gently pushed off the ground. It was peaceful, more peaceful than it had been all day, as they said nothing. It was only because they didn't have to. Ichigo knew, and Rukia knew, and silence was worth more than any line they could possibly say.

When the pendulum of the swing finally stopped, he peeked at the tiny girl in his chest. Her eyes were closed. That was good for what he needed to do. Digging the toe of his sneaker into the dirt, he traced a lopsided heart and put a crooked 'I + R' in the center. Ichigo tilted his head to the side and admired his handiwork- it was ugly, surely, but it was one of those 'thought that counts' kind of moments that made up for the lack of artistic ability. And honestly, the entire idea was quite stupid, since mainly twelve year old girls did that kind of thing.

But it was his. And it was about them. So although his dignity was quite lacking, a soft smile still graced his lips and he called the engraving his own. 'I+R'- he liked the sound of that. He couldn't help but wonder if she ever would, too.

"Hey, Rukia."

"Yes?"

"You think…you think that one day, Byakuya would, er…approve of me?"

"Approve of you doing what?"

"Being with you."

She sighed. "I already told you. Nobility don't date. You either marry or you move on."

"I know."

There was a thick silence between them as the chaos in her head began to churn. There was that question again- where would they be, ten years from now? As much as she hated the thought, she saw them, happy and together with rings on their fingers. It was so stupid. She felt like a small schoolgirl dreaming about impossible fantasies, and yet…a tiny smile began to play on her lips. It was a nice thought. Even though it would hurt to shatter it to pieces, it was nice.

"I…I hope so, Ichigo."

He left it at that. Even though there was so much more he wanted to hear her say, this was a good start for what was to come. Perhaps he was doing something right, after all. Perhaps she would be his when the clock struck 12:01. It was another silly thought, almost as silly as his drawing in the dirt, but it was a thought he was determined to hold on to for as long as he lived. When she returned to her life of nobility, he would be with her.

He kissed her hair, and they began to swing.

* * *

**A/N: **I am so incredibly sorry that this took forever to come forth. I had half a chapter done on Tuesday, decided it was crap on Wednesday, re-wrote it and threw it away on Thursday, and so on and so forth. It's 4:44 AM, and after listening to Strawberry Swing by Coldplay fifty times, I'm finally satisfied (although I really hate this chapter). Hopefully, it was just a _little _worth the wait. Please review and let me know what you think, and I promise chapter five will be coming soon, with more of a plot and less head-in-the-clouds kind of material. Every review gets a response (I know the thought of that thrills you, don't lie)!


	6. In Medias Res

Chapter V – In Medias Res

"Can you smell the thunder?"

There was something odd about her statement, though it was laced with obvious truth. They had been so wrapped up in the day's itinerary that the thick clouds quickly rolling in had gone unnoticed and the sky was turning a shade of grey. As they walked, hands shoved in pockets and minds drifting in the impending clouds, her question hung between them as if there was more importance than they realized. What was thunder- a stage of a storm? Foreboding? Had it always been a warning, a warning that something…different was about to come?

Ichigo looked up idly at the sky. "Think it might rain?"

She wondered the same thing as they walked along a desolate side street to a destination he had yet to reveal. Something light had brushed against her ear – rain, perhaps – but it soon proved not to be the case as in rested on her shoulder. It then floated in front of her and she recognized what was a hell butterfly fluttering and waiting to deliver a message.

That was odd. Quite odd, really, since cell phones proved to be handier in the Living World than the methods of the Shinigami. It must've been orders, and private ones, too, since it required her touch as authentication that it was truly her. The message would be sent directly into her mind, not broadcasted for anyone to hear.

She held out her hand and let it rest in her palm, its reiatsu gently pulsing as it connected with the spiritual pressure within her gigai. It was odd how quickly she had forgotten all this Gotei business – her world seemed more abstract than the Living did. Or maybe he gave her a sense of normalcy- whatever normal meant. As the message played and Ichigo watched her violet orbs widen and her lips slightly pause in surprise, he knew that this was anything but normal.

When she blinked, seeming to come out of focus, the butterfly dissolved into misty pressure and dissipated into the air around them. It was clear that the message had been for her, and for her alone.

"Well, what'd it say?" Patience had never been his virtue.

"I uh, have to go."

"Where?"

"…Back to the soul society."

It began to rain.

She hated the way he stared at her in stony silence, with his eyebrows slightly arched in question and his eyes somewhat narrowed as if they were seeing through her. What was she supposed to say- that she was sorry? Maybe she wasn't, maybe she was, but either way, it didn't help the fact that those were orders she had no choice but to obey. She paid no mind to the soft droplets of water falling onto her hair and skin, drenching them both in its plaintive downpour. Hadn't he told her it rained because she made it so? He'd kill to see her smile through this.

He could've asked why- why this was all happening. But she already knew what he was wondering without him having to say it.

"Orders from Nii-sama himself."

There was a hint of apology in her voice, though it was well-hidden. Ichigo wondered why that was so. Did she actually regret receiving the message, or was it just an act of pity?

"And you're going?" But that wasn't a question. It was an inference.

"Don't look at me like that. Like I have a choice. Have you forgotten that my assignment here was temporary?"

"So it was just an assignment?"

There was that sick, twisted feeling of selfishness again- selfishness and anger. Since when had she become the bad guy in all this? Of course it wasn't just an assignment; to her, it was lazy nights watching TV Tokyo on the old, living room couch with closed eyes and an ear pressed to his heart. To her, it was sneaking out of class to fight a hollow and taking the long way back just to squeeze in more of those precious seconds they shared alone. To her, it was sitting on his too-small bed with mussed hair and sweatpants, sketching Chappy portraits of his scowling face and not caring what the hell she looked like or what the hell he thought about it.

To her, it was everything. And now, it was nothing at all.

Maybe it'd be just a quick sojourn and she'd be back in Karakura town the next day. Or maybe she'd never return. Honestly, it didn't matter, because his 24 hours had suddenly come to a screeching halt and her heard had been caught in the process. It was a joke. What did he think they had- time? Time was an illusion. They gave it a name and set it a date, but really, they had no control over any of it in the end.

As she swallowed her suddenly-bitter Soul Candy and separated her gigai from her true form, she wondered if it was possible to leave her heart with it, too. Leave it with him. Make him happy…somehow. Maybe they were taking this way too seriously, and maybe they weren't taking it seriously enough.

"I have to go," she muttered, unable to look him in his chocolate eyes and see the pay that lay beneath them.

Instead, she turned to her gigai prancing around, catching the rain with her outstretched tongue. Rukia smiled weakly, despite the enormous amount of effort it had taken.

"Take care of him, okay?" Her attempt at cheerfulness truly failed.

Her brighter self gave her a thumbs up and watched as Ichigo removed himself from his gigai, too. By the time she had felt his spiritual pressure fluctuating around her, she had already crossed into the soul society with her senkaimon, Ichigo following close behind her. Rukia had been so desperately trying to shut out this entire situation, that she had not anticipated his decision. Her body whipped around to stare at his towering from through the light drizzle and fog covering the Seretei that afternoon.

"What do you think you're-"

"Oy, Midget," he scowled. "If you expected me to just let you disappear like that without even an explanation, then you're a helluva lot more stupid than I think you are."

This frustrated her more than anything. Most would've seen the romantic side of his "bravado" (minus the small jab at her intelligence) above all else. But Rukia Kuchiki wasn't stupid, and she could see his curiosity and irrationality clouding his better sense of judgment. Even she did not fully understand the meaning of her summoning, and walking blindly into a situation that had nothing to do with him was foolish. He was idiocy in its truest form.

She shoved at his chest with an outstretched hand angrily. "Go back. _Now_."

"The hell I will!"

"This is not a game," she snapped. "You will not pick and choose what you want to do!"

"I choose _you_."

She rolled her eyes. What was this, a Pokémon rerun on TV?

Rukia grabbed the hilt of her zanpakuto. "You will leave now."

He gripped his own and smirked. "You wouldn't."

"But I could."

"But you won't."

"And why is that?"

He shrugged. "Because you love me."

Now he was starting to piss her off, and maybe for reasons even she did not understand. The sticky moisture clung to them as they stared, daring each other on to the next move. Rukia contemplated using a binding kedō of some sort, but he would probably be able to break it. And as tempting as her bankai was, it would be incredibly unprofessional and overly dramatic for the situation. And if she wasn't careful (or got lucky), they would see him as a threat and arrest him. After all, this was her territory. Attacking her on her manor was like kidnapping a president in front of the entire world.

So she had two choices- one, continue on with her duty and pray that he would magically disappear, and two, kick his ass. He could never hurt her, so she had somewhat of an advantage. Then again, would she be able to inflict damage upon him? It wasn't love that was holding her back – damn the thought – but it sure as hill wasn't compassion.

She removed her hand from its position and stalked off into the direction of her personal entrance. "If you think you're one step closer to accomplishing your goal," she scowled "you're sadly mistaken. Idiot."

He followed her in amused silence through the marble hallways and regal lobbies of the Kuchiki manor. They had money- there was no doubting that part- and they had taste. In fact, it scared him a little. A part of his conscious gnawed at the fact that perhaps she deserved better than a Substitute Shinigami whose value was only a mere fraction of hers. Of course, she didn't care about things like wealth and the digits of her bank account. That had always been irrelevant. But perhaps it would help to know that they were even in at least one area.

Even their social status seemed to be dramatically skewed. As gaurds bowed respectfully to her once they passed them by, Ichigo wondered what his place was in this world of hers. Strength had gotten him far, but was it far enough? That was the question. Perhaps she could overlook-

"What are you thinking?"

Her words were softer than before, although they still had a slight edge. He peered over at her, though her eyes were trained on the pattern of tiles on the floor. It seemed as if everyone had changed in so little time. One moment, she was in his arms on an old swing and the next, she was cold and formal as if she was leading him to death. Ichigo had never liked what this life turned her into.

"I'm wondering…what's got you so worked up. Geezus, Rukia, you look like someone shoved a stick up your-"

"Let me explain something to you," she turned on him suddenly with violet eyes warm and liquid and a finger jabbed repeatedly at his chest. "You might not take anything in your life seriously, but around here, we do. This is not an amusement park. We are not here for a ride and we are not playing a game. So you will speak only when you are spoken to, listen intently whenever possible, and mind your manners above all, or so help me Ichigo, I'll do a kido #88 right up your ass."

He raised his eyebrows and resisted the urge to kiss her adorably upset face. "Up my…where?"

"You'll never walk again."

"Can't argue with that."

"Good." She tugged at the sleeves of her uniform and slowly opened a pair of silver-embossed double doors.

And sitting at the desk in front of them was Captain Byakuya Kuchiki himself.

"Nii-sama," she said humbly, bowing so low it was incredible that she did not fall over.

He looked up from a stack of papers with his serene, grey eyes and smiled slightly. "Rukia. It's- what is Kurosaki Ichigo doing here?"

"Byakuya," he nodded. "Hey."

It was like she hadn't mentioned the manners part at all.

What was she supposed to say- he tagged along for the ride? That would make her seem weak, as if she had no control over who would follow her. Ichigo was embarrassing her, to say the least. But why did he have to do it front of her older brother? Whatever the mission was, she was already failing it. If only there was a way to find his forgiveness-

"Your hell butterfly shouldn't have come until tomorrow."

"What?"

Rukia was as equally puzzled. "He is part of the mission, Nii-sama?"

Byakuya's cold eyes bore into her as he stood, folding his arms behind his back and observing the two with an expressionless demeanor. That had always puzzled Rukia, even after all those years of living in his home and watching him carefully with each movement. It was almost impossible to tell when he was angry.

"This is not a mission, Rukia. This is a meeting."

There was a thick silence following his sentence.

"Uh…about what?"

Rukia groaned at Ichigo's blatant ignorance. "Speak only when you are spoken to, fool."

"Back off-!"

"You baka!"

Byakuya watched silently, observing the struggle of dominance between the two shinigami. Obviously, some things hadn't changed- she was still as determined as ever to differentiate right from wrong. And normally, he would've exiled anyone who dared to talk to her like that, but there was something softer in her eyes as she explained to Ichigo his faults. Although the terms she referred him to were clearly derogatory, they were laced with something that took the edge off of them. Perhaps this was some odd way of showing affection- no, that wasn't it. Maybe it was…carelessness? Careless as though she didn't care that she was arguing and scolding right in front of her sense. It was then that he understood-

He had enveloped her completely. It was almost as if the world had ceased to exist.

"Sit."

The two instantly ceased the quarrel and sat in the chairs facing the front of his desk. As Byakuya measured their expressions, he saw traces of nervousness in her eyes and curious arrogance tugging at the corners of his lips. That boy- the substitute who couldn't even remember to properly greet his superiors- was somewhat of a nuisance. Yes, he proved himself to be useful, and yes, he was following the footsteps of his father. That wasn't enough to win over Byakuya's approval.

He didn't _hate _the Kurosaki boy, for that was too strong of a word, but he did not see his cocky audacity as a trait to admire, either.

He wondered what his little sister saw in that boy. What she saw that Byakuya could not.

Byakuya mused on that for a bit as he took a seat and laced his fingers together on the surface of his desk. Rukia could barely look up from her lap- she had always been somewhat meek in his presence- and he knew she was chewing nervously on her tongue (a habit he had failed to remove from her conscience). He thought he had known her so _well_. And now this?

Perhaps it was his fault. Perhaps he could've prevented this somehow.

He fixed his glare on the orange-haired shinigami in front of him. "Kurosaki."

He nodded in response.

"Are you prepared to take the seat of the third noble clan in the name of the Kuchiki family title?"

Ichigo blinked. "I uh…"

"Are you prepared to become the 6th Division Captain of the Gotei 13 and reside in the Soul Society for the next three centuries?"

"Well, I-"

"And Rukia," he turned to her, and she flinched in surprise. "Are you prepared to bear an heir to the throne of the Kuchiki nobility?"

"…Is this rhetorical?"

The corners of Byakuya's mouth twitched a little. "Didn't think so. And now that that's established, will someone explain why this Substitute is courting the next seat to the Kuchiki noble throne without the granted permission of the head seat and its predecessor?"

He knew. He knew. He knew. It was the only thought that could cross their minds as they sat in stony silence, frozen in fear. Rukia felt as if someone had poured ice water over her head. The shock, the blatancy- it was all too much. Of course, she had seen that this entire process would have its snares, but not once had she stopped to think about Byakuya's reaction. It would've been a little funny, even, if it wasn't happening to her. However, destiny rarely ever cane to her at the time of her choosing, and it was clear that control was no longer in her fingertips.

It was a rhetorical question. She knew that. But still, it seemed impossible to answer.

Suddenly, Rukia Kuchiki had to make a decision, and she had to make it fast.

There was no more hiding what was going on, and Byakuya was expecting some kind of reason of to why she had allowed this to happen. That was a tough predicament that required more than just a few minutes to think over. She could tell him that it was all Ichigo's idea- put the whole thing on him and never look back- but her brother was no fool and would ask why she had let Ichigo continue something that was on the verge of illegal.

_Or_, she could stand up for the insolent fool sitting next to her. But didn't that require some sense of desire and affection to be with him?

She loved him.

She loved him not.

Would the wheel ever stop spinning?

So for all intensive purposes, let's say she _did _love him- which she did _not_, because that would be sill and completely out of bounds. Wouldn't that be throwing Ichigo into the lion's den? The simple boy with simple pleasures in life had not asked to be thrown into the whirlwind of aristocracy and austerity, court life and cruelty of the rich and infamous. It was far from easy. That was partially why Rukia herself had taken the path of a Gotei warrior. However, dating was seriously frowned upon in her world because if its risks of a sudden end, and its symbolism of an unofficial relationship. Ichigo would have to let her to, or…

Marry her. Plain and simple as that.

And it would be no ordinary church wedding. It would be official and consummated under the eyes of the Seretei. Turning her back on her clan was turning her back on the people who had made her arduous slum-life clean and worth living for. Refusing marriage as an alternative to her situation would lead to the highest punishment below the physical ones.

Exile.

She would turn her back on her people, and in result, they would turn their backs on her. Forever.

"No explanations?" His eyes moved from one stony face to another. "That disappoints me, Rukia."

His words surprised her. She looked up suddenly, meeting his eyes. All the hard, cynical traces had disappeared. He was serious. She had really let him down this time by creating such a problem that could possibly disgrace them all.

"I know at times I may appear to be…apathetic to you, Kurosaki Ichigo," he said quietly, shuffling through a folder of papers. "But you must realize that my intentions are created only to solve the situation at hand. Courting a hand of nobility is a very, very serious thing, and since I suspect neither of you are ready for an engagement, I must do what is best for the both of you."

It took all of Ichigo's self-control to bite his tongue. He had to be kidding. Since when was Byakuya in control over what he did and did not do? And Rukia- when did she have time to breathe when he was around? He dictated every one of her footsteps, and by the look of things, she would not be standing up for what she wanted anytime soon.

But what _did_ she want- him? His twenty four hours were not up, but suddenly she was forced to make the decision.

"For now, I am revoking your mission in the Living World and Kurosaki Ichigo is to return home at once."

For half a second, no one spoke. And it was the longest half-second of her entire life.

Ichigo clenched his fists and the expression on his face was struggling to cope with his fury. "You can't do that."

"Oh?"

He banged his fist on the desk and turned to the silent girl next to him. "Damn it, Rukia," he muttered angrily. "Do you ever think for yourself? Aare you really gonna let this happen, not say anything?"

She opened her mouth to speak but the words did not come. Don't make her choose. For all things holy, don't make her choose between two different universes and two different people that meant the world to her. It wasn't fair, to make an understatement. She wasn't ready for his time to dwindle away so quickly, and she sure as hell wasn't ready to undermine the person that had given her everything and more.

"I…"

Ichigo craned his neck to meet her eyes, though she turned her cheek and shut her violet orbs. It was all too much. Eye contact had become impossible.

"I know I'm not noble, or-or wealthy or well-mannered, or any of that crap," he pleaded desperately. "But I can change, if that's what you want."

There he went again- making her the most selfish person in all of the Soul Society. She hated herself for making him so weak.

"Sit down, Kurosaki-"

"But just picture life here, without me," he continued, because the rest of the world ceased to exist. "And if you can do that, then I'm obviously not worth it. Just tell me you don't love me, and I'll go."

Squeezing her eyes shut to block out the world that continued to tell her what to do, she tried. Really, her effort was quite gallant. But no matter how much she tried to erase those precious moments of a world that had changed her life forever, she could not succeed. If the memories could not go, then neither could Ichigo. It was that simple. She was wherever he would be.

Byakuya was curious now. "Rukia? And are you recuperating the same amount of interest that he seems to show?"

"I uh…"

"Well?"

She blinked at her older brother as if she was seeing him for the first time. "Do…do you know what a record is?"

Okay, so that wasn't the answer they were anticipating originally, but perhaps she had a point.

"I don't believe I'm familiar with the term."

A small smile graced her lips and Rukia's mind drifted off to memories of erratic shelves, paintings of intertwined hears, bunny charms and the taste of strawberry ice cream on her tongue. She smiled, and she remembered, and suddenly everything seemed so simplistically clear.

"It's an old music medium in the Living World," she said quietly, thinking back to the past couple of hours. "you put it on a record player, and the needle creates vibrations that give you the sound. That's what I learned today, Nii-sama.

I got a self portrait, used a child's swing, was peed on by a rabbit-" Byakuya's eyebrows raised at that one "-fell asleep in someone's arms, developed a taste of strawberry ice cream and danced like no one was watching.

It may not seem like much, but…it's changed everything in less than twenty four hours. And if it's possible that every day of the rest of my life could be just as incredibly pointless and meaningful as today was, then…" her eyebrows furrowed in realization, as if she was no longer talking to her brother, but to herself. "I'd be incredibly stupid not to accept the offer."

She folded her hands in her lap and stared at something she could not see. "I…I think I love him, Nii-sama. And I don't need a whole twenty four hours to prove it."

There was silence. Nothing more. Ichigo sat down, Byakuya studied her with grey eyes, and Rukia blinked in realization that he had been there all along. Just silence. Nothing more, nothing less.

And then Byakuya spoke. "Is that enough for him to give up everything and become a member of the Soul Society? He does not belong here, Rukia. He is alive."

The door that he had opened was suddenly coming to a close. As Rukia stared worriedly at her feet, Ichigo wondered how she could ever think she wasn't worth the sacrifice. His father had told him once that life boiled down to one move that could change everything. Was it then? Was it time? If he didn't act upon it, the door would be closed for ever. And honestly, there was no choice. There was something crazy and incredibly stupid that he knew he had to do.

"It's settled then," Byakuya told them. "You are dismissed to your headquarters for now, Rukia-chan."

Ichigo's world, at that exact moment, was moving in a blurred slow motion. He watched with unfocused yes as she rose to leave him behind. For good, maybe. Forever, most likely, if Byakuya had some kind of a say. That thought seemed impossible. Life without her was no life at all, and letting her go would be severing the cord that tied him to life itself. They were two hearts, tied together by one.

Separate them, and you die. Strengthen them, and you live. Survival of the fittest at its culmination.

And she was ready to leave that all behind.

He blinked slowly, watching one foot move in front of the other, as if his mind had slowed down time and time itself had been rendered obsolete. It was impossible. Unthinkable. His twenty four hours were now ineffective, and life was dangling by a single thread. She walked out that door, and the thread was cut. The bet- the bet that had promise to change absolutely everything- would dissipate into thin air.

Ichigo was barely thinking clearly. Desperate times called for desperate measures- a fact that he had always hated, because desperation seemed to be for the weak. That's what he needed- desperation. At that moment, that would save him.

She. Was. Leaving.

So he did something stupid. Because 'now or never' was now the motto of his entire life.

"Okay…then I'll marry her."

And Rukia Kuchiki's world suddenly went black.

* * *

**A/N: ***cowers in fear* Hey guys... long time no see, eh? I want to apologize beforehand for an update that took a ridiculous amount of time and a ridiculous amount of words. Also, I'm a total Bleach noob, so forgive me for all the OOC-ness of Byakuya and his gorgeous self. And look- an actual plot! Crazy, right? This scenario seems a little ridiculous and impossible right now, but please don't think that this fic is turning into some marriage crap after just 10 or so hours of them dating. I'm dumb, but I'm not that dumb. Consider it...a moment of panic, perhaps? Next chapter, Ruki and Ichi have a little chat about that interesting proposal. Please review and accept my forgiveness! Every review receives a reply, I promise.


	7. Fifteen Hundred Hours

Chapter VI – Fifteen Hundred Hours

"I-Ichigo?"

Rukia's speech was thick and slow. She blinked, searching for someone in the dim light of the room.

"I'm here."

The corners of her mouth curved upwards at that familiar voice, and her hand ran across the bed's comforter to find the person that owned it. Her fingertips found the hem of his sleeve, and as her eyesight adjusted to the shadows, she could see the outline of his tall frame. It felt comforting to know that someone was there, even though there was an odd tension pulsing between them.

"I had the weirdest dream," she muttered, gathering her thoughts. "We made this deal, and we were on a swing, and then I was in Nii-sama's office in the Soul Society…"

"Fascinating."

She sat up and looked around. "Where am I?"

"In the Soul Society."

"And why?"

"Because of a deal."

Huh. Interesting.

Rukia instantly stood up from the bed – perhaps a little too quickly – and her head reeled. As her eyes searched the room, she saw a damp cloth lying near her pillow, and the familiar arrangement of her room in the Kuchiki manor. There wasn't much she had expected- just Ichigo's old bed and a closet full of Chappy drawings and borrowed clothes. But as the memories flooded back to her, the reason why she was there made her head throb a little. It was unreal, all of it- unreal and way too difficult to believe.

She pressed her cool palm to her forehead and swiftly stumbled out of her room and into the cloudy outdoors of the manor's north balcony.

"Oy, Rukia, take it easy-!"

The soft pitter-patter of rain echoed against the shelter of the roof above the railing, and the sky still reflected the same shade of gray. Quickly, for Ichigo had followed her outside, she checked the ring finger on her left hand to see if it had been unexpectedly occupied. To her relief, it was not, though the thought was a little silly. However, that had failed to explain why she had to do that, and what had possessed him to say something so incredibly stupid.

Well, maybe it wasn't _stupid_. But wrapping her mind around the idea was like attempting to explain the universe.

"What the hell happened?" she whispered.

Ichigo sighed and leaned against the railing. "Damn. How hard did you hit your head?"

Rukia smiled a little, but it was not returned. Although it was just a minor detail, it was highly noticeable that he seemed heavier, quieter. She looked at him curiously as he stared up at the dripping rain, and she wondered. How quickly things had gotten so complicated between them! But if she could take it all back for a second chance, would she? Maybe there were some parts, like the beginning of this whole mess. She shouldn't have made the deal in the first place.

She should've just…kissed him back the first time. And not pretend the next day that it didn't happen.

Her smile faded as she watched him intently. "What's wrong, Ichigo?"

"Nothing," he scowled as if her question was beyond ridiculous. "Who said somethin' was wrong?"

"Alright, then. Sorry," she said quietly.

For once, she decided not to fight him on it. But just this once. And for that, he was quite grateful.

He exhaled gently and turned to her. "You wanna take a walk or something?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

They walked down the balcony and back inside the manor in quiet silence. There was something left unsaid as the two shinigami took their time with each step, as if they were savoring each second. Ichigo wondered why she bothered. It would be so much easier –all of this – if she didn't care.

"You remember," he began slowly, keeping his eyes on the floor, "when Byakuya said I didn't belong here, because I was human? 'Cause I was alive?"

"Yes." The memories were bittersweet and clear, now.

"Well, uh…what do you think? You think he's right, or what?"

"You belong wherever someone needs you, Ichigo."

For the most part, that was true. He was not tied to the Kurosaki Clinic, or the Soul Society. When conflict called, he was there. When his family, his friends, and the people he loved the most, called, he was there. It didn't matter what universe they came from.

"Do you need me?"

She paused. "What's going on that you cannot tell me, Ichigo? Just say it."

"It's not that easy-"

"Well, try," she said quickly, her patience running thin.

"I am!"

"Then what's with all the cryptic questions and wary looks?"

"Maybe I'm just in thought!"

She smirked. "Maybe you're just an idiot."

He balled up his fists. It was insane how quickly she could piss him off, just by caring so much. They should've cared. They should've cared that they were arguing in the middle of the main entryway quite audibly in front of the eyes of who-knew.

"Don't start with me-"

"You're one to talk."

"Just shut up for a second, will ya?"

She scowled. "You're such an insensitive-"

"I'm leaving, Rukia."

For awhile, no one spoke. He watched her warily as her eyebrows furrowed, and her violet eyes searched beyond him at something he could not see. It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be- saying it out loud, where it becomes real, not just a thought floating around in his head. Sure, his heart was racing, and sure, he wanted to kiss away the hurt and confusion on her delicate features, but…it was doable. It happened. He got through it.

Perhaps he was stronger than he thought.

"I…what? Why, where?"

As her eyes finally ran across him, searching painfully for the answer, his knees almost gave way and eye contact suddenly became impossible. He was weak. That was clear as he contemplated taking it all back; hurting her seemed like one big joke that could never truly happen. He hated himself for making her care, for this would all be so much easier if they were still just partners in crime and nothing more or less.

"Home. I can't stay," he told her, maybe a little too apologetically to maintain his usual dignity.

She opened her mouth, but the words just didn't seem to come out.

"I have a home, Rukia," he said quickly. "I have stuff…my family- I left them unprotected. Our friends might not be able to handle all the hollows and I-I…"

"It's okay, Ichigo," she intervened gently. "I get it." Her voice was thick with false reassurance and the smile on her face was just a little too supportive. She nodded, staring at his chest, rather than his face.

"Rukia-"

"Really," she smiled. "Karakura…is your home."

Ichigo Kurosaki was no fool. Though this was his first time with any real relationship, he could see how quickly it was all deteriorating. That was his mistake- getting her to care so much, attaching her in order to make separation impossible. He was pretty good at holding it all together, so far. Really, he was on the brink of destruction, but his turmoil was internal while hers was more than clear to see. He never thought the day would come when for once, the curtain closed on her act that everything was perfectly okay.

He stared at her for awhile. "Okay…"

"Okay," she said quietly, smiling.

"You don't want to…talk about anything? Before I go, I mean. You'll be alright?"

_Why have you forsaken me? _

"No. I'm fine."

"Not even about that…marriage, thing?"

_How could you revoke something so sacred? _

"Not really."

He ran his fingers through his thick hair in frustration. "Do you…do you care at all?"

She frowned. "Of _course_ I do."

He shook his head slightly and turned away. "Whatever. I'll…see you around, then."

But he wouldn't, and they knew that better than anyone else. Ichigo wasn't really sure why he was leaving everything on a bitter note. As he crossed the room and headed to the front door, he wondered whether he was frustrated with her or himself. She was a stupid little midget- stupid and frustrating for letting him go without putting up a fight. He hated her. He hated her apathy act, even though it was empty and forged.

He himself was even more stupid for letting her go through with it. He hated himself for not turning around, shaking her until she woke the hell up and telling her that they were in this – whatever this was – together, for as long as need be. He was a coward, and that was an understatement. But he could not turn around.

He crossed the threshold, shut the door behind him and disappeared from her view.

She shut her eyes and bowed her head, feeling his powerfully familiar reiatsu gradually disappear. That was good- no traces of him were left, minus his scent of humanity and life and the memory of his departure forever etched into her perfect memory. That would make this easier to handle. It was so dramatic, though, because they would surely see each other again. Sometime in the near future, perhaps, if Byakuya allowed it. If Byakuya allowed her to do the things she wanted to do.

That wasn't fair. He was not a tyrant, but a good man that cared for her as if she was truly his own, and that meant protecting her and helping her decide what was best. She loved him. He was her nii-sama. Rukia pondered on what he was doing right now. It was what- three o'clock or so? That was surely at least ten minutes into the Saturday Calligraphy Club meeting, and despite the current circumstances, perhaps he would still be attending.

Surely, he wouldn't notice if she just…disappeared…

She summoned her hell butterfly in order to open her Senkaimon, glancing around quickly to see whether the brief release of spiritual pressure would be detected. To her dismay, a guard strolling down the nearby hallway spotted her, bowed and began to come her way. She sighed, turning away from the floating blade thrust into the closed door and acknowledging him quickly.

"Rukia-san," his deep voice called to her. "Captain Byakuya has asked me to keep an eye- where are you going? I'm under strict orders that you are not to leave-"

"Disintegrate, you black dog of Rondanini. Look upon yourself with horror and then claw out your own throat," she muttered quickly under her breath, outstretching her arm and watching as the red light consumed and paralyzed the subject.

As his eyes blinked manically in shock, she sighed and called her Senkaimon to open.

"I'm sorry," she said gently. "At least you are not in any pain, and someone familiar with Kedō may come by soon in order to release you." She stepped into the portal and looked over her shoulder, smiling slightly. "Sayonara."

Disappearing into the bright light, she stepped through the portal and into the heavy rainfall of a Karakura afternoon.

* * *

The minute Ichigo Kurosaki crossed the Senkaimon and stepped on familiar soil, he stopped caring and cut off all emotion for a good while – just until his mind processed everything and his heart started up again. His body was missing- okay then. Rukia's gigai was nowhere to be found, either- so be it. And he was alone, walking down a desolate street in the middle of a rainstorm with no body and no possibility that anyone knew he existed. When had life become so unfair? He had never liked the rain.

As one foot moved mechanically in front of the other, he kept his eyes on the blackened pavement and his head bowed to shield his face from the rain. Suddenly, he wasn't the vigorous Ichigo he used to be, but an exhausted shell of a former self that had ceased to see meaning. It was incredible that his life easily spiraled downwards because of a girl, though she was more than a word so simple. She was everything. She had kept his heart beating. But he just could not stay.

It was these bleak thoughts that occupied his mind so thoroughly that at first, he didn't see the human shape leaning against the brick of his home's front retaining wall. Ichigo rested his hand on the gate in order to push it open, but stopped once he sensed another, nearby presence. As he looked up, blinking through the rain, he could see that it was someone small and female, who must've been waiting for him if she was out in the rain. Waiting. For him. That was a pretty good thought for him to hold on to.

"It's about time."

He smiled, keeping his eyes on the gate. "I took the long way home."

She crossed her arms over her chest and lolled her head to the side to get a better look at him. "In the rain?"

"In the rain," he nodded, slowly walking over to her. "What's your excuse?"

"You didn't think I was going to let you leave that easily, did you?"

"Is that why you're here?"

She pressed her body against his and placed a small hand on his chest, feeling the soaked fabric of his robe beneath her fingertips. The water enhanced everything around her, as if she was an open electric current and he was soaking her to the last electron. Blinking up at his cautious features through the rain, she wondered why she had avoided this point of her life for so long. It was stupid, really, to think about how much time she had wasted evading something that was already in her heart.

"I'm here because I love you, dipshit."

He smiled. It was the first time she had ever said it, and it was music to his ears.

There was no more time to waste. Wrapping his arms around her waist – he missed that gesture more than he thought he did – he leaned down and pressed his yearning lips against hers, the way it was meant to be. There was no more hesitation in it, no more resistance. Her hands reached up to his neck, though she could barely reach it, and in haste, he lifted her feet from the ground and guided her legs around his waist. That was better- she could then wrap her arms fully around his neck and pull their bodies closer. Their hearts, now tied together by cables of steel, beat in a frenzied synchronization.

This was what she had been resisting all along? Such a fool she had been. It was as if she had suddenly grown up in less than twenty four hours.

Ichigo stumbled through the gate while supporting her light weight, happily distracted by the feeling of her soaked skin and energetic lips brushing against his. They barely made it to the front door, for Rukia had practically pushed his back into it in order to press herself closer and hormonally charged shinigami stumbled out of the rain and into the shelter of his – their – home.

Navigating to his bedroom was a large accomplishment, with the incredibly irresistible Death God clinging to him, but at last they collapsed on his bed, breathless and unable to break away. As Rukia straddled his lap and laid her wet chest against his, he placed sweet kisses along her jaw line and smiled against her dewy skin.

"I can't stay," she whispered. "And technically, this is just about illegal."

"I can live with that."

She giggled – a sound unfamiliar but incredibly pleasing to his senses – as he nibbled a little on her earlobe. "Not if he kills you first."

"I'd win."

"You cannot protect me, Ichigo," she said quietly, looking down at him and into his eyes of liquid hazel. "Even you can't stop what's coming next."

"Separating us is…impossible, midget," he scowled. "I'd never let that happen.

She paused for a moment. "Then…ask me again."

He knew what she was referring to. He knew, and she knew, and maybe this time, she'd be conscience long enough to give him an answer.

"Rukia Kuchiki?" he said slowly, quietly, as he turned his head to look beyond her wide, violet eyes and deeper into her soul.

Her head rested on his shoulder as she returned his gaze, and she was barely breathing. "Yes?"

He placed a slow, unhurried kiss on her lips and rested his forehead against hers, smiling. The room was silent for a moment, and the only audible sound was the pitter-patter of the rain and their panicking hearts. That moment, that setting- it was the only place she'd want to be. His arms were her home.

And he said, "Marry me."

* * *

**A/N: **Hah-loh. Hopefully you liked this chapter more than I did. There's something about that just...makes me go "meh," but I'm not sure what it is yet. Next chapter, Rukia's response, Byakuya's reaction (shame on you, Rukia, for sneaking out!), and perhaps that poor guard will get released. Leave a review, please and thank you, and I'll be more than happy to respond. Suggestions are always welcome. Seriously. Thanks again!


	8. Sixteen Hundred Thirty Hours

Chapter VII – Sixteen Hundred Thirty Hours

And he said, "Marry me."

Although Rukia Kuchiki saw it coming beforehand, her heart still managed to double its pace and the blood pounding in her temples she desperately tried to stop from making her blush. She could see now why she had fainted the first time. The question to her was terrifying beyond reason and his expectant, chocolate eyes gazing at her made her hair stand on end. She never got how Japanese soaps and blockbuster movies were able to portray something so horrible as something so romantic.

"No."

Yep. There was nothing romantic about this.

Ichigo's eyes widened and his facial expression transitioned from confusion to anger, to surprise, to a mixture of all three. There wasn't much to be said to the raven-haired Death God lying serenely next to him, other than "Why?", but his lips stumbled on the syllable and coherent words refused to come. He sat up and stared down at her, wondering why she had set him up for a failure that had surely bumped back his masculinity a good six notches.

'Unfair' was the perfect word to describe this, for it wasn't that she had said no, but that she had said no after alluding to him that she would say yes.

"T-the hell?"

She blinked. "Sorry. I just…didn't think you'd actually _do_ it."

He stared at her. There were no words for this.

"I'm sorry," she told him, suppressing a smile at his still-shocked expression. "But we're just…not there yet."

"Where is 'there'?"

"'There' is a relationship spanning more than two hours," she muttered irately, fiddling with the hem of his bed sheet. "I mean, 'there' is something a little more romantic than…us."

"We're…romantic," he defended lamely, for the word was difficult for him to produce out loud.

She stared at him. "I live in your closet."

"Which is very cozy when shared."

"We kill for a living."

"Great bonding time."

"You're fifteen."

"Sixteen."

She nodded. "And in most societies, that's illegal."

He scowled. There was something else…something more behind the hollow excuses that meant less than nothing. As she stared down at her hands folded in her lap, he knew well enough that she was afraid of something. It wasn't a commitment issue, he was sure of that, nor was it the idea that made her nervous, for the worn out romance novels shoved under her bed were proof that the concept was nothing preposterous or new. He himself didn't see the problem in the idea – if it would save them, he was all for it – but it was impossible if she did not.

"Then what is it?" he pressed. "You don't…want to-"

"Don't be stupid," she snapped. "We're just not ready."

"It's not a shotgun wedding, Rukia. We have time."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Give me a ten-year engagement and maybe I'll consider."

"Well-"

"Shouldn't we date first or something? I mean, you haven't even asked me out yet."

"But-"

"And that's another thing. We still don't know if Byakuya will approve."

"Ruk-"

"There's still too much to figure out, too soon," she ranted aimlessly. "I really don't think this is a good idea, Ichigo, considering you belong here and I belong there and to pick and choose-_umphgg_."

Her long harangue had been abruptly sealed off by Ichigo forcefully planting a kiss to her lips. He pressed his palm to the side of her perfect features and leaned into the contact, relishing in the way her lips parted automatically and the sweet silence that resulted. Although her fanatical points were somewhat legitimate, they did not concern him in the least. Though he didn't know it, Rukia Kuchiki made him bold. Byakuya Kuchiki did not scare him, lack of experience did not faze him, and the heavy weights ready to press upon their shoulders put him in anything but panic if it meant that he could have her, _truly_ have her, for as long as they lived.

"Shut up, will ya?" he muttered gently before planting a smaller kiss on her parted lips.

He leaned back and studied her silent features before speaking. "There's something you're not tellin' me, midget."

She mustered a smile and turned her face upwards to kiss him once more. "Nope. I think I've mentioned just about everything that's wrong with your stupid idea."

"You're lying," he whispered against her lips.

She frowned and pulled away. "And how do you know that?"

"'Cause I know you."

Though the thought scared her, it was more than truthful. Ichigo had learned long ago that if Rukia believed in something and wanted him to believe in it too, she would find a way to make it happen. If that meant drilling it into his head by reiterating it on a daily basis or punching him repeatedly in the gut in order for her point to win, then so be it. It was clear that these "fears" were empty and meaningless to her, since she barely bothered to back them up jumped quickly to the next point without spending time on the last. Her true problems had not been addressed yet.

Therefore, she was hiding something.

And therefore, he was planning on finding it out.

She rolled her eyes and began to scoot off the bed, but he caught her by the waist and pulled her to his chest. "Why is the idea stupid, Rukia?"

"Let me go," she muttered, pushing at his chest, but he kept his gentle hold and peered down at her.

"Tell me why you think it's stupid."

"Because it _is_," she growled.

"_Why?_"

"Because!"

"Because _what?_"

"Because you don't want to marry me!"

For a moment, all was quiet.

Rukia studied his blank features for a moment while running her eyes over his adolescent features. There was something strange about them that day – as if he was on the line between boy and man. The boyish side of him appeared reckless, hell-bent on something he had failed to think through. This side would soon fill with regret, like a cup left outside to collect rain. Years from now, he will look at her. And he will wonder what would have happened if they had never been.

Rukia liked to pretend. Pretend that this side did not exist.

And then there was the matured side of him, the aged nature that was grasping at opportunities that never lasted forever. He saw the logic in their badly-drawn (yet sweetly-thought) plan, and he was ready to seize it with hands that would hold her, a life that would include her and a heart that would love her until it ceased to beat. Years from now, he will look at her. And he will feel dull, aching pain from wondering what would have happened if they had never been.

Rukia liked to pretend. Pretend that this side of him prevailed forever.

But games of pretend were for people with limited time and no eternity that would stretch before them hundreds of years to come. That was the daunting truth about forever- one cannot end it like a conductor ends a bad song or a player ceases to dribble. You're stuck with it; your fallacies and your triumphs, you cannot run from. And perhaps it scared the shit out of the realist who was now dealing with a boy that liked to dream. This was their story and Rukia held the pen. Divorce was out of the option for a royalty like herself; having to live with the heavy regret of a failed marriage until the day she died would be torture of the cruelest kind.

So there were three options, she guessed, that she would have to take within the next few minutes.

One- say yes. That seemed simple enough, but with more errors than perhaps they could handle. Sure, the engagement would be long (as long as she could make it within a reasonable time frame) and sure, they could call it off before they were legally bound, but that future was too near to tell. Ten years from now, things could be grim. Their love/hate relationship sure had a lot of…hate.

Two- say yes. On a more optimistic note, their destiny could be one big happily ever after. Rukia was never one to flirt with far-fetched possibilities of perfection and splendor, but she was holding the pen in this story and she could do whatever the hell she wanted. So if that meant making this thing work for the next three hundred years, then damn it, she was going to make it work.

Three- say no. And, well…that was hard to think about. Too hard. The thought was beginning to seem impossible.

"I don't believe in happily ever after," she mused to herself aloud, contemplating and weaving in and out of her bittersweet thoughts of the vague future.

"I don't either," he told her with gentle candor and his signature lopsided grin, "but that doesn't mean I'm not going to attempt one."

"Well said."

"Your turn."

Well shit. He was actually winning this round. And she didn't seem to mind.

Her eyes wandered over his perfect lips and her right palm felt his heartbeat through her touch to his chest. "Will you love me a hundred years from now, when I'll be twice my age?"

"Will you love me two hundred years from now, when I'll be twice the asshole?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

The corners of her mouth slowly curled upwards into a serene smile. "Then yes. To answer your previous question- yes."

And that was that. They'd have to talk terms soon, and the Kuchiki clan would have to assemble, but that was a distant part of their lives that had yet to come. For now, there was thunder and there was lightning, and there were two bodies holding each other and awaiting the storm's end. Nothing else mattered but the sounds of their breathing, the gentle brush of fingertips and fabric, and the beating of their intertwined hearts.

And that was another daunting truth about forever- it no longer seemed long enough.

* * *

**A/N: **Why yes, I am alive. Why no, I'm not dead. Now that school's finally over with, I can get back to this. I got a boyfriend (woo hoo! another person to act like an idiot around!), my English teacher assigned an essay four days before school ended (and gave me a zero for the grammar part of it), and I'm learning to drive (where, I'm not sure, considering I have no destinations). Things have changed into something incredibly hectic, but hopefully your enjoyment of this story has not waned. If it helps any, I still love you, my dear reader. Leave me a review and feel free to rant about how long it's been, how crappy this chapter is and/or how stupid the plot seems. Believe me. I understand. I'll probably go back and edit it later.


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